


Encore

by Pline



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Firefam Feels, First Kiss, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Panic Attacks, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, Team as Family, Temporary Character Death, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23802580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pline/pseuds/Pline
Summary: “I’m going insane.”“Did something happen?”A dark, bitter laugh bubbles out of Buck – a mockery of joy.“Everything keeps happening, and it’s still the same fucking day. It’s always the same and every time it’s different and I can’t do anything.”.OrBuck keeps reliving the same day, over and over again.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Athena Grant, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Firehouse 118 Crew, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Maddie Buckley, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 265
Kudos: 843





	1. Open Your Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING**  
>  Please check the tags, and the end notes for more information.
> 
> I am on tumblr [@bilbobagglns](https://bilbobagglns.tumblr.com/)

By [Ro_Nordmann](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ro_Nordmann/pseuds/Ro_Nordmann) / [@ronordmann](https://ronordmann.tumblr.com//)

Buck likes those kind of mornings.

He likes waking up early and having enough time to do his routine. Working out puts him in a good mood, makes him feel awake and alert and ready to start the day. He puts his music as loud as he can and lets the cheerful beats energize his whole being.

He finds himself humming one of the tunes as he gets ready to get to work, and when he sets foot outside his apartment, he is happy to see that he has enough time to stop for some coffee.

The sun warms up his skin as soon as he sets foot outside, and he takes a minute to just stop and let the feeling sink into him. He loves his job, of course he does, he lives for it – the rush of saving lives, of being useful, of being important – but sometimes they can’t catch a break, they barely even have time to catch their breath.

Here, now, in the busy L.A. street, bursting with life, everything is quiet.

His good mood only grows as he picks himself a cup of coffee. He would buy an assortment of pastries for the team too, but he knows Bobby is in charge of breakfast today – as he is most day, in truth – and would not appreciate having his work overshadowed by pastries.

It takes him about thirty minutes to get from the coffee shop to the station. Even the crazy Los Angeles traffic does nothing to drop his smile. Instead, he turns the radio up and sings along.

Perhaps it’s due to his sunny mood, but Buck does not notice Eddie until he is running into him.

(Quite ironic as he usually is aware of Eddie at all times.)

He is talking with Hen as they climb up the stairs – she is telling him an adorable story of Denny taking care of Nia and playing with her, and he laughs heartily as he imagines the picture it must have made.

Next thing he knows, he is colliding with someone.

Buck yelps at the coffee spills from the cup and onto his shirt. In his misfortune, he is lucky enough that the drink isn’t hot anymore and that there’s barely any left.

“God, I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” Buck waves it off with a smile. “It’s my fault anyway, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“Got your head in the clouds?” Eddie jokes, his eyes sparkling.

Buck doesn’t know how to explain it. In moments such as this one, even dripping in coffee, he feels like he has everything – his job, his family safe and whole. And even when he looks at Eddie and longs for more, he can’t find it in him to feel sore about his unrequited pining.

So instead he shrugs and he says, “I’m just having a good day.”

“So far,” Bobby chimes in from the kitchen, and Buck throws him a dramatically betrayed look.

“You’re going to jinx it, Cap’,” he whines, aware of how childish he sounds and not caring one bit because his friends are laughing.

“Go change, Buck,” Bobby tells him, fond. “I’ll try and keep you some food.”

“I’d hurry if I were you,” Eddie says. “Chim has already finished his whole plate and he might just eat yours too.”

“Where even is he, by the way?” Buck hears Hen ask as he rushes down the stairs.

Whatever the answer is, he does not hear it. He rushes down the stairs and into the locker room. It’s not so much the idea of his breakfast being stolen that makes him hurry so, but rather the want to spend as much time as he can with his team before they have to rush away and save the people of Los Angeles.

Once they are out there, a great day can easily turn into a terrible one, the moods souring fast. Here, in the station, before the alarm first rings, nothing can touch them.

“Get moving, Buck, or there won’t be any food left.”

He turns around, his clean shirt still in his hand, but Chimney is already gone. Buck chuckles and he shakes his head, hastening to change shirts before rushing back upstairs. He slides into the only empty chair, between Eddie and Hen, and bursts out laughing at the sight of his plate.

Bobby has made avocado toast today, and either his captain or someone else has sprinkled red pepper flakes so that they form a smiley face.

“You’re liking my work? It’s very age-appropriate for you,” Chim says, beaming. “Sorry I don’t have a bib, I heard you spilled coffee all over yourself.”

Instead of answering, Buck, very maturely, sticks his tongue out at Chim.

“Why do I even love you two,” Hen sighs.

“Ah! You love us,” Buck exclaims, vindictive. “No take-backs.”

“Did you purposely decide to act like a five year-old today or is that just how it’s gonna be?”

“Can we go back to the shower argument?” Bobby asks, trying hard to look annoyed but miserably failing. “At least, it was entertaining.”

“What shower argument?” Buck perks up.

“Morning shower versus night shower,” Eddie exclaims. “The argument isn’t much of one, really, since we all know morning showers are the best.”

Buck’s heart is bursting with joy as his friends engage in the meaningless debate. They have all finished their breakfast, he is the only one left eating, but they remain seated with him, all joking and laughing together.

Of course, they cannot stay like this forever.

The alarm rings, and so their day begins.

“We’ve got a man, 64, complaining of chest pains,” Bobby announces as they blaze through the streets of L.A. “The granddaughter called 911.”

When they arrive at the scene, a house in a quiet neighborhood, they are welcomed by a frantic teenager, no older than fourteen. She is not crying, but her eyes are red and puffy, and the hand that’s still holding her phone is shaking as she points them inside.

“He’s over here,” she cries out and runs back into the house.

The man, Jason Stocker as they have been informed by dispatch, looks up at the team. He is sitting in his living room, in an old armchair that must have seen better days.

He groans when he sees them. It’s as much in pain as it is in frustration.

His face is pale and tensed, sweat has accumulated on his brow, and his lip is trembling. Still, he brushes Hen and Chim away before they can even get close to him.

“I’m fine,” Stocker throws, acid on his tongue. “Lila is overreacting as always. I don’t need and I don’t want your help. Thank you, now get the hell out of my property.”

“Grandpa,” the kid – Lila – exclaims.

Bobby takes a step towards Stocker but stops at the dark look the man gives him.

“Sir,” Bobby says with his patented Captain voice. “Making sure you’re alright would only take a minute, and I’m sure your granddaughter would be grateful for it.”

“My granddaughter should have never called you in the first place,” his tone is clipped. He turns to the kid whose face has fallen even more. “Lila, I told you I was alright.”

“You don’t look alright,” she replies, and Buck has to agree with her. “Come on, grandpa, please.”

“No.” It’s final. “I’m fine.”

Buck catches Eddie’s gaze. They both wince at the same time – calls like this, when someone is clearly in need of help but rejects it for whatever reason, most often misplaced pride, are always daunting.

“You are refusing care, sir?” Bobby asks. He has to.

“I am.”

There isn’t much they can do if the patient refuses to be checked out. Stocker is conscious and alert, they cannot force him into the ambulance.

“Lila, see them out, since you called them.”

The poor kid bows her head down. She is trembling and she looks so young, so fragile. Buck is tempted to shake the man into realizing he needs help, but that would not help their situation. Back in his first few months on the job, he would have probably snapped at the old man, feeling for the granddaughter.

Now he knows better, though the lesson is not one he has liked learning.

“Keep on eye on him,” Buck says to Lila before they leave, hoping she can read how sorry he and the whole team are. “Alright?”

“Alright,” Lila whispers. “Thank you anyway.”

“Is there anyone else you can call?” Bobby asks, gentle. “A parent?”

“I’ve been trying my mom but she’s not answering. She’s at work.” She breathes out, her bottom lip wobbles. “I should go back.”

With one last thank you, she disappears back into the house.

“I hate this,” Hen announces. “He’s clearly in pain.”

“I know,” Bobby agrees, “but there isn’t much we can do. At least, he isn’t alone.”

“Yeah,” Eddie mutters. “And that poor kid is gonna be traumatized if he dies on her.”

There is another beat where none of them dare to move, their focus still on the silent house. Then, Bobby sighs, and, wordlessly, they turn their back on Stocker and Lila, turn back to their vehicles.

“Help! Help! Please!”

It’s Lila. She is standing at the door, crumbling on herself as she cries out, despair clinging to her like shadows to the night.

“He fell over! I don’t think he’s breathing! Help!”

The team is rushing past her except for Buck who stays behind with the kid. Before he can say anything, her legs give out from under her and he shots up to catch her before she falls.

“Hey, there, kid,” he says kindly as she sobs in his arms. “Your grandfather looks like one hell of a stubborn man, and he’s got the best paramedics in the world working on him right now. He is going to be alright.”

She does not answer but clutches tighter to him, her body shaking with the strength of her sorrow. The only thing he can do is hold her as his team work hard to save her grandfather’s life.

He is not sure how long they stay like this, but eventually her sobs finally subdue and she lets go of him. She wipes at her cheeks, avoiding his gaze. He stands up, giving her the decency of picking herself up without being scrutinized.

“Lila, oh my God, are you alright?”

Both Buck and Lila turn to see a woman in her early 40s, eyes wide as she runs up to them.

“Mom,” Lila cries out and she throws herself at her mother. “It’s grandpa, I tried calling you.”

“Ma’am,” Buck says politely. “Your daughter called us after he complained of chest pains. My team is with him as we speak.”

“Is he okay?”

Buck is saved the answer by his team’s arrival. Stocker is alive but unconscious, laying on the stretcher, oxygen mask around his mouth. Lila moves to get by his side, but she is held back by her mother.

“Will someone tell me what happened?” Lila’s mother demands. “My father, is he alright?”

“We’re taking him to the hospital, Ma’am,” Bobby explains. “His heart stopped beating, and he hit his head falling down, but he is alive and stable.”

“Oh my God,” her hand shots up to her mouth in horror before she turns to her daughter. “Lila, call your Aunt Bonnie. Tell her to come pick you up here, I have to go with your grandpa.”

“No, you can’t leave me.”

“Lila,” the woman snaps. “Just do as I say, for once in your life.”

With that, she is gone, leaving the poor child behind. There is no time to lose, they have to take Stocker to the hospital, but Buck flashes a sorry smile at Lila before running to the ambulance.

The sight of her, small and alone as she watches them leave, isn’t a sight that Buck is likely to forget anytime soon.

* * *

Once they get back to the station, their cheerful mood has somewhat returned. Stocker has been brought alive to the hospital, along with his daughter, and their job is done. They can’t let themselves be brought down by every single of their call. There is misery wherever they go, it’s the very nature of their job.

What they can do, is take the win and move on, so that they can be ready for the next call, the next person that needs saving.

It’s only because Buck is about to ask a question to his captain that he notices the way Bobby’s face lights up as he looks down at his phone. Even before he says it, Buck knows Athena is involved – she is the only one who brings that particular look on him.

“Good news, everyone,” Bobby announces with a warm smile. “Athena is coming by, and she is bringing donuts. Apparently, she’s just won a big bet at the precinct.”

The team cheers at the news and, indeed, a few minutes later, Athena strolls into the station holding a box of pastries. She laughs at their exuberant reactions, and Buck feels his good mood returns full force.

“Athena,” he declares solemnly. “You’re my favorite person in the whole world.”

“We’re standing right there,” Chim protests.

“Did you bring donuts, Chim?” Buck asks, giving his friend a pointed look.

“He has a point,” Eddie chimes in.

“Of course you’d defend him.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Buck says at the exact same time Eddie exclaims, “Well, he’s right.”

“Come on, kids,” Athena calls. “You can’t fault Buckaroo for being right, as rare as it is.”

“Just so you know, the only reason I’m letting this slide is because you brought donuts.”

Athena laughs, joined by the whole team, and they spend a few blissful minutes where no alarm rings and no fire breaks, where they can be happy, carefree. Buck soaks up the joy so that he can lock it up in his heart, and keep himself warm with it when he will inevitably need it.

The alarm rings.

With one last wave at Athena, they are gone and running towards the next danger that’s awaiting them.

Well, calling danger might be a bit of a stretch.

“Cat in a tree,” Hen laughs. “It’s been a while.”

They rescue the poor skittish animal, get the tearful thanks, and on they go to their next call, and the next and the next and the next. For four hours, they can’t catch a break – car accidents, a mild fire in a bakery, some minor calls, some less than minor.

“This day really is all over the place,” Chim remarks as they arrive at their umpteenth call.

“And you’ve been a firefighter for how long, again?” Eddie asks but his cheek is diminished by the tired set of his mouth. “How does that still surprise you?”

Buck stumbles getting out the truck. Bobby catches him before he plants his face on the ground. His captain’s hands do not leave him, but Buck’s full attention is directed towards the building.

There is something hollow inside of him that he cannot name, something primitive and terrified. It sounds like a buried voice yelling at him to run.

“Buckaroo? You’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Buck answers, and he finds that his voice is hoarse. “I – I feel like I’ve been here before.”

“Do you want to step out of this one?”

“No,” he rushes to answer. “I’m fine.”

He is not fine, but no uncanny feeling will hold him back from his work. He shakes himself from it, from that unnamed terror that would make him a coward. Squaring his shoulders, he gives a nod at his team, a silent signal that his head is in the game.

Dispatch has not been clear about why they are needed here – they only know a couple is involved which can mean everything from a sexual prowess going wrong to something much more sordid.

Inside the building, the impression of having been there before only grows stronger and though Buck racks his brain trying to find an explanation for it, he finds none.

It’s a normal building like so many others in Los Angeles. There is nothing special about it, nothing noteworthy, except that Buck both loathes and fears it – for no reason at all.

The quiet beige-painted corridors could not have prepared for the scene of utter chaos that awaits them in Apartment 24.

Its door slams open and out of it comes a man covered in blood from head to toe, and waving a gun at them.

“You gotta help her,” he yells. “She’s not breathing!”

“Sir,” Bobby says, firm. “I need you to put the gun down.”

Instead of acknowledging him, the man scrambles back into the apartment, yelling at them to follow suite. Protocols would have them waiting for police back-up but from where they stand, they can see a woman, pale as death, laying in a pool of her own blood.

Without needing to be asked, Buck steps away as discreet as he can to call for back-up while his team enter, going to help the woman. As soon as it’s done however, he rushes back to them, to see if there is anything he can do to help and to make sure his team is as safe as can be.

One step into the apartment, and everything happens at once.

It takes him only a glance to see that the woman is long dead.

Hen and Chimney are working on her anyway even though rigor mortis has already started to set in. Eddie is crouching next to them and Buck knows, without any kind of doubt, that he is only waiting for the perfect opportunity to disarm the man.

Bobby is standing in front of the gunman, keeping his attention on him, but the gunman’s eyes fly to Buck as soon as he takes one step into the place.

The man – wild-eyed, shaking – turns towards Buck.

Buck does not see him pulling the trigger.

He hears the gunshot, and then all he can feel his pain as the bullet pierces through his skin and through his organs, and then he is on the ground and he is bleeding out and it’s too much – too much blood, too much pain.

“Buck!”

Eddie. Eddie is here. Eddie is at his side. Eddie Eddie Eddie – everything is Eddie.

“Ed – ” Buck tries to say but he is drowning in his own blood and the words sink in his throat.

“Come on, Buck, stay awake.”

Eddie is crying. Eddie should never cry. Buck wants to cheer him up but he is so cold, so tired.

“Buck, please.”

But Buck is gone.

Buck is dead.

* * *

* * *

Buck opens his eyes and he is in the station’s locker room.

His entire body is shaking and he can taste the phantom taste of blood on his tongue and throat. He almost retches with it. His heart is beating so fast it threatens to break through his rib cage, exposing it to the world.

When he looks down at his stomach – where the bullet ripped through, tearing his flesh apart, and all he could feel was pain pain pain – he finds no blood but his shirt stained all over with coffee.

“Get moving, Buck, or there won’t be any food left.”

He startles at Chim’s voice but when he turns, Chim is already gone.

What’s happening to him? He has lived through this before – the stain, Chim hurrying him up. He has seen it before – lived it.

His head is spinning, he has to catch himself on the locker not to fall.

He was dying, he knows he was. Was it all just a dream?

Or is _this_ just a dream?

Has he died? Is this his mind giving him one last moment with his team, his family?

“Buck,” Eddie calls from upstairs. “Hurry before I eat your plate.”

This is new. He does not remember this happening before, and that’s enough momentum to push him into movement. He changes out of his dirty shirt, feeling out of his body, before dragging himself to join his team.

There’s a plate waiting for him in front of an empty chair that sits between Eddie and Hen. He takes a deep breath – the air feels real, the floor under his feet is solid. It does not feel like a dream.

“Finally,” Chim exclaims when he sees Buck. “You’ve missed quite the debate on night versus morning showers.”

“I – did?”

He looks down at his plate – an avocado toast, and someone has added red pepper flakes to form a smiley face. He remembers this. Chim did this. He remembers the debate, he was there for part of it – but not now, before.

“You’re liking my work? It’s very age-appropriate for you,” he hears Chim say. “Sorry I don’t have a bib, I heard you spilled coffee all over yourself.”

What’s going on? What’s happening to him?

“Everything okay there, Buckaroo?” Hen asks, a soft tinge to her voice. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Confusion and fear must be evident on his face because she frowns at him. He forces himself to breathe in, deeply, and, despite the chaos inside his mind, he finds himself relaxing slightly under her gaze.

Right. This is nothing. It has to be.

The memories of his death, of the day that wasn’t, fall away, like a strange dream after waking up.

He is in the station, with his team, alive and well. There is no gaping wound in his stomach. There is no gunman. Everything is fine.

“Yeah,” he breathes out. “I’m just – ”

The alarm rings.

Buck’s strange behavior is put asides in favor of their call. Buck wills himself to calm his beating heart. He knows the team is worried about him, especially Eddie who has decided to sit as close as possible to him – has made it his goal to catch Buck should he fall.

Worrying them is the last thing Buck wants, and so he gives them a goofy smiles he hopes is enough to put them at ease.

“We’ve got a man, 64, complaining of chest pains. The granddaughter called 911.”

Any semblance of calm Buck managed to build up shatters, leaving him breathless and with his ears ringing.

He can’t deny it any longer.

He is reliving the same day.

How is that even possible?

The girl, Lila, is outside the house, waiting for them. She is not crying but it’s clear she is close to tears, and it’s the exact same scene that Buck has already lived through once before.

“He’s over here,” she cries out.

Buck’s movements feel almost sluggish as he follows his team. Eddie keeps throwing him worried looks, but Buck can’t even bring himself to smile at him this time.

Is he losing his mind?

Stocker is as friendly as he was the first time.

“I’m fine. Lila is overreacting as always. I don’t need and I don’t want your help. Thank you, now get the hell out of my property.”

Everything is going as it already has before, but Buck seems like he is the only one remembering it. Is it because he died? Because he did die, he is sure of it.

His focus snaps back when he realizes that they are leaving and – no, he can’t let that happen again. It doesn’t matter if this whole thing is real or a dream produced by his dying brain, Stocker is about to have a heart attack.

“Wait,” Buck blurts out before he can think it through. “We huh – we should check on Lila! She seems shaken.”

Bobby frowns at him, hesitant, but Buck keeps his gaze on him, silently asking his captain to trust him, to back him up on this.

“Alright,” Bobby relents. “Lila, right?”

She must catch on to what Buck is trying to do, or she is just desperate to keep them here as long as she can because she nods with fervor, so fast that Buck is worried she will give herself whiplash.

“That’s not necessary,” Stocker tries to say – his voice faint.

“It is,” Lila refutes. “I’m not feeling so good. I think I’m gonna pass out.”

Hen and Chimney approach her and start asking questions. Buck keeps his attention on Stocker, discreetly getting closer to him. He tries to remember how long it took before Lila came running out the house, yelling for their help.

Stocker gets up. Buck is ready to catch him when he immediately collapses.

“Grandpa!”

Efficient as always, Hen and Chimney are already by Stocker’s side.

“I’ve got no pulse and no breathing,” Buck tells them. “Starting compression.”

Behind, they can hear the sobs of Lila as she watches them work on saving her grandfather’s life and Buck hopes that Bobby and Eddie will be able to bring her some comfort. He switches places with Chim who takes over compression

“He’s got a pulse,” Hen says. “It’s weak but it’s there.”

Buck exhales shakily. On their first go, they had saved his life too, but nothing is ever promised, especially in their line of work.

Lila’s mom arrives as they wheel Stocker to the ambulance, and mother and daughter have the exact same argument that Buck remembers. Once again, he is forced to look at Lila, alone and terrified, standing in front of her house as they leave.

He is glad he is not driving because he is not sure he could focus enough to right now.

How is it even possible? How could anyone go through the very same day once again?

Is everything going to be the exact same? How much can he change?

A thought hits him. His hand falls to his stomach and he gasps in shock as he remembers the feel of the bullet – nothing but pain.

Is he going to die again?

“Buck? You’re okay?”

When he doesn’t answer, Eddie puts his hand on his arm, and Buck stares at it without seeing it. Bobby has his head tilted towards them, eyes still on the road, but clearly paying attention to what is happening.

Buck can see none of it. He is in the truck with them, but he is also back in Apartment 24, laying on the ground. Dying.

“Buckaroo, what’s wrong?” Bobby asks.

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Neither press him, and he does not catch the worried glances Eddie and Bobby keep throwing at him. His mind keeps going to that one question – will he die again?

No, Buck can change events. He has done it with Stocker already, he just has to change things again. He could tell Athena, but she would ask questions he doesn’t know how to answer. If he goes on saying that he is reliving a day he has already lived, they would fear for his sanity.

But he could call in an anonymous tip. He knows the address, and the woman was long dead by the time they get there. Maybe he can save her too, and that way, they won’t have to go back there at all.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” Bobby asks as soon as they get back to the station. “You’ve been weird all morning.”

“I’m good,” he lies because there is no way he can tell them the truth.

“Buck,” Eddie says – a warning.

“I am good. It’s a weird day, okay? But I’m here, I’m focused.”

Maybe it is good. Maybe, he realizes, maybe he has been given a second chance. If it’s true that he has died, then he has been brought back hours before he meets his demise, and that gives him the chance to save his own life.

He takes a deep breath, holds it, and exhales.

“I’m good,” he repeats. This time, he means it.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Cap’. I’m sure.”

Athena drops by the station with donuts once more, her bet won. She does a double-take at Buck, something she did not do the first time around. He makes sure to beam at her but he is sure that she doesn’t buy it.

If he remembers correctly, he still has a few minutes before the alarm rings again, and he slips away to tip the police about the man in Apartment 24, making sure to mention the gun and the woman.

Buck feels lighter, hopeful.

The universe has given him a second chance and he has taken it.

The alarm rings. The day goes as he remembers it and he goes through it feeling liberated. Even the continuing calls can’t bring him down, he is walking on sunshine, he feels invincible.

How many people can say that they have been given such a chance?

“What’s going on with you today?” Chim asks after they have dropped another patient to the hospital. “I’m pretty sure you’ve experienced about every emotion on the human spectrum.”

Buck grins. He doesn’t answer.

They wouldn’t understand, but it’s alright. Everything is under control, it’s all fine now that he has fixed it.

* * *

They are in the middle of a call that did not happen on the day that wasn’t, as Buck has taken to call it. It’s a three car accident, one of which has been entirely totaled, another overturn, the last thrown two lanes away.

The sun is high in the sky, heat unforgivable as they work to free the people trapped in their vehicles.

By the time the last person is let out their car, they have all sweated through their uniforms but the rush of having no one with major injuries soothes any discomfort they may feel.

Buck wipes his brow and turns, his eyes scanning his surroundings, searching for his captain. Now that they have released everyone from their cars and that they are ready to be transported, the team will soon be on their way to the hospital.

No one sees the speeding car until it’s too late.

“Bobby, watch out!”

Bobby has no time to move, the car is already hitting him.

Powerless, Buck watches as Bobby’s body is thrown up the air – high, too high, too fast – and then crashes to the ground – hard.

Someone is screaming, it might be Buck. He is not sure. He is sure of nothing anymore but his captain’s body, unmoving, bleeding.

Buck is by his side in the blink of an eye. It’s still not fast enough.

“Bobby, Bobby, hey,” he begs. “Stay with me, alright?”

Bobby tries to speak, it’s a useless attempt – nothing comes out his mouth but blood.

Hands are on Buck, taking him away, Hen and Chimney are kneeling by Bobby, their focus solely on their captain.

“Buck,” Eddie breathes out. “It’s alright. He’s gonna be alright.”

What beautiful lies, Buck almost believes them.

Bobby closes his eyes, one last exhale passing through his red-tainted lips. Buck does not have to be told to know.

Bobby is gone.

He is dead.

The world goes black.

* * *

* * *

Buck opens his eyes and he is back in front of his locker.

He rushes upstairs, his clean shirt still in his hand and he almost knocks Chim on his way.

He does not stop to apologize, not even when Chim yells out after him in exaggerated affront. His mind is empty but for the thought of his captain, lying on the ground, bleeding out, eyes already empty before anyone could attempt to save him.

Buck’s frenetic arrival earns him many alarmed gazes on him but his whole focus is on Bobby.

Bobby who is here, alive – breathing, smiling – and there is no blood, no wound.

He has his captain wrapped into a tight embrace before he can even register the action. Bobby startles at the contact, not having expected it – he freezes under Buck’s hold.

“Buckaroo?” he asks with worry. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t,” he can only whisper – a broken sound. “Just let me have this. Please.”

His voice sounds wrecked even to his own ears. Without a word, Bobby puts his arms around Buck and holds him, and Buck feels no shame in the way he buries himself into the hug, with abandon and despair.

The whole station’s attention is on them but Buck can’t bring himself to care.

He has seen Bobby die and now Bobby is alive. They would not understand. No one can understand but him, him who is living through this impossible nightmare.

Buck does not let go until the alarm rings.

“I’m fine,” he croaks out, answering the unasked question. “I can do it.”

There is no time to lose and so Bobby only gives him a terse nod.

“We’ll talk later,” he warns, not quite an order.

The others give him worried looks but no one asks him any question and he is grateful for it. He wouldn’t even know how to explain it. How could he tell them that he thinks he is stuck in a time loop? They would throw him in an asylum and lose the key.

Eddie glues himself to his side on their call, barely leaving any space at all between them. The silent support is enough to calm the storm raging in his head, enough to bring him back to the present, that one present.

He has to focus on what he is living in the moment, because he can’t take the chance of the spell breaking and any of his team remaining dead.

This time, he barely remembers to delay his team, and it’s Eddie who manages to catch Stocker before he hits the ground.

He stays with Lila again, like he did that first time, and holds her as she cries.

No one talks to him as they go back to the station, but Eddie, once more, sits so close to him they might as well be sharing the same seat. His presence alleviates some of Buck’s worry, just enough for him to keep on breathing.

Back at the station, Buck does not need to be told. Wordlessly, he follows Bobby to his office, his gaze cast down. The door closed behind them only brings semblance of privacy through the glass, but it’s what Buck needs.

“Alright, Buckaroo. It’s just us now. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t even know how to say it,” he admits, weary.

“Just try.”

His captain’s expression is patient, gentle – nothing like the expression he had been wearing when he died, face twisted in pain, his entire body broken, covered in blood. Buck shudders at the memory.

“Talk to me, Buck. I want to help you.”

Bobby’s phone rings with a text notification. Suddenly, Buck has an idea on how he is going to broach the subject.

“Athena is bringing donuts,” he says before Bobby can. “She won a bet at the precinct.”

If the situation wasn’t so dramatic, Buck would have laughed at the absolute look of shock on Bobby’s face.

“How – ?”

“Because I lived through this before. I’m stuck in a freaking time loop and I don’t know how to break it.”

“Buck,” Bobby starts with hesitancy, but Buck cuts him off.

“I know how that sounds. Look, I’m not joking here, okay? Our next call, it’s a cat in a tree of all things. After that, we get a woman displaying symptoms of a stroke, and after that a kid with a broken elbow.”

That’s heartbreak on Bobby’s face, Buck can’t have it. He needs his captain to believe him because if he does not, then he is alone.

“Buckaroo,” Bobby breathes out, distressed.

“Please.” He is begging, he does not care. “You don’t believe me? That’s fine, but just give me until out next call. If I’m wrong, by all means, send me to an institution. I’m aware of how insane this sounds.”

Athena must have arrived by now. They don’t have much time before the alarm rings, and Buck still has to call in his anonymous tip – no way he is ever going back to Apartment 24.

“Okay. But just until our next call, you hear me?”

“Thank you, Cap’. Thank you.”

With only one moment of hesitation, Buck scrambles to give Bobby another quick hug, and then he is running back to his team. There he pretends his best like there is no tension at all, that everything is absolutely normal – even if Athena’s stare is heavy on him, and Eddie won’t leave his side, and Chim is on edge, and Hen gives him many a concerned look, and Bobby says nothing at all.

It’s all okay. He is about to prove to Bobby that he is right, and then Bobby will be able to help him. Bobby always knows what to do.

The alarm rings.

The ride is silent. Buck keeps his gaze down on his feet. Eddie puts his hand on his knee and keeps it there until they arrive on scene. It’s time for the moment of truth.

“Cat in a tree,” Hen jokes but her voice is strained with the effort it takes to pretend everything is alright. “It’s been a while.”

Very slowly, Bobby turns to Buck, eyes wide, face ashen. Buck flashes him a smile, though it’s dimmed.

He was right, but he wishes he hadn’t been.

Leaving the rest of the team to deal with the cat, Bobby takes Buck asides, his grip almost painful on his arm.

“How could you have known? There’s no way – how?”

“I told you,” Buck says in a sigh. “Time loop. I’ve lived this before.”

On the ladder, Eddie laughs as he gets a handful of terrified fidgety cat. Buck can’t help the soft loving smile at the sight.

“How did you know?”

His attention turned back to his captain, Buck deflates. Bobby doesn’t believe him. Who could blame him? Certainly, this was too much to ask of him. How could he put that weight on anyone else?

“You don’t believe me.”

It’s not an accusation.

“Our next call, what is it going to be?”

“Stroke,” Buck breathes out, defeated. “Will you believe me then?”

Bobby does, if the awed, terrified look he sends him when they arrive at the next call is any indication. They don’t manage to speak in private, Buck’s anxiety only grows stronger as time passes, it’s running away from him again.

They go through their calls, go back to the burning bakery though it’s only the first time for his team, they save again the people that they have already saved without knowing it. Everything is the same except that Buck is silent, withdrawn, and Bobby keeps close to him, white as a sheet.

The others don’t ask questions, mainly because there is no time, but the air is heavy between them as they go on their day. They still work as great as they ever do, of course. Still, there exists now a tension that has never been present.

There are three cars laying in the middle of the highway, one is overturn, another is totaled, the last one has been sent two lanes down.

If Buck does not do anything, Bobby will die again.

No one notices the car until it’s rushing past them, but no one gets hit either.

“I know someone who’s about to get arrested,” Chim tries to joke.

Only Hen reacts at his comment, a barely there chuckle. From where he stands next to the ambulance, Eddie frowns at Buck – what a sight he must make. He wants to cry, he wants to scream in relief, but he is still so afraid that all could go wrong again.

“Are you okay, Buckaroo?”

Shaken, Buck turns to his captain – the one man he has truly ever looked up to as a father, though he has always feared Bobby doesn’t feel the same bond towards him. For now, right now, Bobby is alive and that’s all that matters.

Bobby knows what’s happening too, and he can help.

“You’re alive,” Buck breathes out. “You didn’t – the car, I mean, you – ”

The words don’t come out, they remain trapped in his chest, heavy and sharp. He can’t say it out loud, he won’t make it a reality again. The image of Bobby dying right there, a few feet from where he is now standing, is burned in his brain forever.

It will surely make many appearances in his nightmares, of that he can be certain.

“I’m here, Buck. I got you.”

It’s only the knowledge that there are people watching, people who need them, that prevents Buck from breaking down.

Leaving the scene behind, Buck says nothing at all. His body aches with an exhaustion that can’t be explained by a day’s work, but then again, he hasn’t had just a day’s work.

A thought hits him and he stills – he has never made it so far in the day. He has never made it back to the station.

Hope, treacherous, grows once more in his heart. He stomps it down, as hard as he can. Let the day be over before hanging the banner in celebration.

“What’s wrong, Buck?” Eddie asks, holding him back from following the team upstairs. “I’m worried, and don’t even try to tell me everything is alright, because it’s not.”

A sigh escapes Buck’s lips. Why must he always hurt the ones he loves the most? Is he ever going to stop being a burden?

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Buck. Just tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.”

He almost does.

“Tomorrow, I will,” Buck promises instead. “Let me get through today, and tomorrow I’ll tell you everything.”

It’s not enough for Eddie, he can see that, and Buck aches with the need to smooth over the distressed lines of his face. He has to remind himself that he isn’t allowed, Eddie does not need that from him.

“Buck,” Bobby calls from the balcony.

He gives his captain a nod. They do need to talk, and Buck, for once, has no idea how long they still have.

“Tomorrow, okay?”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Buck could spend forever staring into Eddie’s warm eyes, but time might be running out, and so he forces himself into movement.

Tomorrow, he thinks. Maybe holding onto that hope won’t be such a bad idea after all.

“Tell me everything,” Bobby says as soon as the door closes behind them.

“It all started when I died,” Buck explains, not noticing how Bobby startles at that. “We went to this place in Santa Monica, and the guy had a gun and he shot me. And I died, I’m sure I did. I closed my eyes and then I opened them again, and I was back here, at the station, living the exact same day again.”

Neither say anything for a moment, letting the weight of Buck’s words set.

“This was your first today?”

Buck nods, “Yeah. First repeat day, I call in an anonymous tip because I am _not_ going back there, but then instead of that call, we get the car crash and you, you – ”

He has to blink the sudden tears away. His throat is constricted, it reminds him of the blood rising up in it after he got shot.

“I died, didn’t I?” Bobby offers, an indescribable timbre to his voice, low and deep. “The car?”

Buck can’t answer, but that’s answer enough. If he tried to talk right now, he is afraid he would break down sobbing – there is no time for it. Tomorrow, he will, if there is ever another tomorrow.

“And after?” Bobby presses, kind but urgent.

Right. He has to pull himself together. The day is not over yet and the alarm could ring at any moment now.

“I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like the world just stopped, you were,” Buck swallows the lump down, “you were gone, and it’s like everything was turned off. Or like, if someone had changed channels. You were gone and next thing I knew, I was back at the station, coffee stains and all.”

“So this is your third time living today, right? What happens next?”

Buck shrugs.

“I have no idea. I haven’t made it this far yet.”

Bobby claps once, loudly. The sound makes Buck jump.

“That’s it then, you broke the spell. We’re both still standing, right?”

“Day isn’t over yet, Cap’,” Buck has to point out.

“It’ll be alright. I’ve got you.”

When the alarm rings again, Buck rushes back to his team feeling like he can breathe again. He has his captain’s support, and with it, he can do anything. If Bobby says that they are going to be okay, he believes it, he believes _him._

It’s another fire. This one isn’t mild like at the bakery.

Fire is already bursting out the windows’ building by the time they get there. It’s already a right mess, its white walls covered in soot, but Buck would recognize that building with his eyes closed.

He died in it.

“Bobby,” he calls, desperate, gripping his captain’s arm with too much strength. “I’ve been here before.”

It takes one second for Bobby to get his meaning. When he does, his eyes widen but is soon replaced by a look of determination, jaw clenched.

“You stay out of there.”

“Bobby no, I can’t.”

“That’s an order.”

“No you don’t understand,” Buck insists. The team are busy getting the hose ready, they are running out of time – again. They are always running out of time. “I _can’t_. Last time, I did nothing and you died. I _have_ to go in.”

“Captain?” Eddie says, loaded with meaning and worry.

He is standing a few feet away, more tensed that Buck has ever seen him. Behind him, the cursed building is still burning – some part of Buck feels almost joy at that.

_Good. Let it burn to the ground._

“Diaz, Buckley, you stick together,” Bobby orders. “Hen, Chim, you too. Be careful out there.”

The last sentence is said while staring directly into Buck’s eyes.

Buck is careful. He is careful as he follows Eddie into the blazing fire. He is careful as they check every apartment for helpless people. He is even careful not to walk too close to Apartment 24’s door when they pass by it.

He does everything right. It’s still not enough.

They have been inside the burning building for over ten minutes, and they can’t stay any longer. It’s getting too dangerous. They have found one unconscious woman, her long blonde hair darkened by the smoke. Buck carries her while Eddie is checking the last apartment.

“We have to head out,” Buck yells. “The building is going to collapse.”

“I’m right behind you,” Eddie yells back.

Buck straightens his grip on the woman and starts the trek down the stairs. They can barely see anything because of the smoke, thick and dark. They keep on going with their heads held high, this is their job, their vocation. They can do this.

At last, the exit is in light, liberty is at their fingerprints.

A loud crack resonates, louder than the terrible crackling of the fire.

Buck turns just in time to see part of the ceiling crumble on Eddie.

“Eddie, no!”

The world goes dark.

* * *

* * *

Buck opens his eyes and a broken sob breaks out of him.

He is in the station’s locker room, but all he can see his Eddie’s body disappearing into the inferno, his own surprised scream still rings in his ears. The world went black almost instantly. Does this mean Eddie’s death was swift?

“Get moving, Buck, or there won’t be any food left.”

Buck doesn’t try to tell Bobby again. He can’t bring himself to tell anyone else.

This is his burden and his alone.

He looks down at his place, the smiley face is almost mocking him.

“You’re liking my work? It’s very age-appropriate for you. Sorry I don’t have a bib, I heard you spilled coffee all over yourself.”

“Yeah, it’s great,” Buck answers, monotone. “Thanks.”

He doesn’t have to look up to know that this has them worried. He can’t bring himself to care. Watching Bobby die was painful, the man, whether he wants it or not, has become a father figure to Buck.

But to watch Eddie die?

How could he ever begin to explain that agony?

If Buck had any doubts about the depth of his feelings for Eddie, there could be none left.

He can’t even look at him, it’s too much. He would burst out crying, he knows, so he keeps his gaze down and forces himself to take a bite of the toast. He has a long day ahead of him, and he will need the strength.

“Everything okay, Buckaroo?” Hen asks softly.

“Just tired.”

It’s not even a lie.

“Not five minutes ago you were just saying how you were having a good day.”

Had it really been five minutes for them? Anything before opening his eyes again and again in the locker room seems like a lifetime ago. Had he really been happy then? He is not sure he remembers what that feels like.

“Well,” Buck says, more sharply that he wanted to. “That was earlier.”

He gets up, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. He turns around and walks downstairs, he might as well go back to the locker room, since it seems like he will never be able to leave it.

No one follows him.

This is too much. How long can he survive this? He is already losing it, he can’t handle watching the people he loves most die over and over. God, he wishes he had stayed dead that first time.

Breathing is becoming harder, his sight darkening. He has had enough in his life to know what a panic attack feels like.

“Hello,” Maddie chirps in when she picks up the phone. “To what do I owe the honor? Aren’t you at work?”

“Mads,” he chokes out.

“Evan, what’s the matter?” Any resident laughter is gone from her voice, replaced by vibrant concern.

“Mads, I – ”

He can’t talk. There is no air going through to his lungs anymore.

“Listen to my voice, Buck. You have to calm down, okay. Breathe with me, you can do it.”

She breathes in, holds it, then breathes out, then repeats it, as many times as it needs for Buck’s breathing to go back to a semblance of normal. Once he no longer feels like he’s drowning in himself, the two siblings stay silent. Buck has his eyes closed, he wonders if she does too.

“Evan,” she whispers – a question and a plea both. He hears the tears in her voice.

The alarm rings.

“I have to go, Maddie. I’m sorry.”

“No, wait – ”

“I’ll call you once my shift is over.”

He hangs up the phone before she can say anything else. He has to drag himself to the truck, baring the uneasy stares of his team.

Once more, Eddie decides to sit as close as possible to Buck. This time, Buck takes Eddie’s hand in his own, seeking the comfort, no longer caring to be rejected.

Eddie only squeezes back.

* * *

The call with Stocker goes the same as it always does. Stocker is awful to the team and his granddaughter alike and has a heart attack on them.

Chim catches the old man when he collapses.

Buck’s heart breaks all over at seeing Lila left behind, alone – just like he is.

* * *

Back at the station, Buck slips away to give the anonymous tip. He has no idea what to do for the fire that will break out later. He can’t prevent it from happening, so that means that they will get the call if he gets that far in the day.

Is he strong enough to get back into the very building that killed the man he loves?

What if he has to watch Eddie die again?

He can’t do it. He can’t.

Then, he will just have to save him.

“How long are you planning to hide out there?”

He jumps, spinning around to discover Athena giving him a stern look that does nothing to hide her concern.

“Hey, Athena.”

“Care to tell me why your whole team is worried sick about you?”

Shame fills his heart. Sometimes, he wonders if the world wouldn’t be better off without him. Anything he does ineluctably brings pain and suffering to others, especially those he loves the most.

The universe must feel the same way too, or why else would it put him through this torment?

“Buckaroo,” Athena warns, still managing to make it sound warm.

That’s what breaks him.

He falls to the ground, the phantom of a sob bursting out of him, a silent cry of despair. There is no energy in him anymore to cry, all that he used to be – strong, resilient – has been stolen from him.

“I’m not strong enough, Athena,” he breathes out, beaten.

She sits next to him, wrapping her arms around him, he staggers against her without a care in the world.

“What do you mean, Buck?”

“I’m not strong enough,” he repeats. “It’s too much.”

She holds him tighter, as if she was afraid he’d disappear on her. He feels a kiss being pressed to the top of his head.

“You are one of the strongest people I know,” she says firmly, willing him to believe her. “Whatever is going on, you have us. You’re not alone. We’re your family, you hear me?”

Would she say the same thing if she knew he was responsible for her husband’s death?

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?”

He hesitates.

The choice is taken from him as the alarm rings.

“I have to go,” he whispers. “Thank you, Athena.”

“I’m always there for you, Buckaroo. You know that.”

He allows himself one last glance at her before he runs back to his team.

* * *

He lives the day like he is watching it outside his body. His friends try to talk to him, he barely answers. Even Eddie’s presence, always close, always warm, can’t bring him out of his pitiful state.

Too soon and yet not soon enough, they are back at the pile-up.

They are all sweating through their clothes by the time the last person is let out their car, but Buck can’t bring himself to notice. His focus is so set on Bobby that he barely pays attention to the rest of his team.

All that he wants is to get through the day, and to do that, he has to save his captain first, and then Eddie.

He can do this. He has to.

Bobby is out of the way, Buck makes sure of that. It’s probably his worry at Buck’s odd behavior that makes his captain not ask any question as to why he has to join him by the ambulance. He will take the victory anyway.

Except.

No one notices the speeding car until it’s too late.

“Eddie, watch out!”

Buck can’t move, even when his team run past him to get to Eddie. He already knows it’s too late. He falls to his knees, and he can’t hold back the wrecked screams that escape his throat, can’t hold back the sobs and the tears.

Not that he’d want to.

He is still screaming as the world goes black.

* * *

* * *

Buck opens his eyes.

He goes through the loop again.

And again.

And again.

He loses count of them.

Someone always dies, one way or another.

Car accident, Santa Monica fire, gunshot, falling down the stairs, choking, head trauma, to name a few.

He has seen it all.

He can never save them.

He can never be enough.

The world always goes black.

* * *

* * *

Buck opens his eyes and he flips around.

Anger and despair mix in his soul, he wants to scream out at the sky, demand answers. Why him? Why them? Why does he have to keep losing his dearest friends, killed mercilessly as he stands watching, useless, powerless?

He is at the end of his wits, he will do anything for time to retake its normal course, if only he could know what he needs to do.

His attention his caught by Chim, right on cue, jogging past the locker room, his mouth open to speak. Buck already knows what he is about to say – he has heard him say it countless times before.

He catches his friend’s arm and, desperate, begs, “Wait.”

“What’s wrong? Are you sick? You look pale.”

Chim slips into his paramedic attitude without as much as blinking, as natural to him as breathing. Buck has no time for it.

“I’m losing my mind,” he blurts out. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Whatever Chim sees in his eyes has him frowning with worry. Gently, he guides Buck back into the locker room and on the bench where he sits too, close enough to be a comfort without making him feel trapped.

“What’s wrong, Buckaroo?”

Buck wants to cry, but he has cried enough today – maybe enough for a lifetime.

“I’m going insane,” he admits and Chim’s hand is still on him, still holding him in the moment. “There is a history of mental illness in my family, you know. Maybe it’s my turn now.”

“Did something happen?”

A dark, bitter laugh bubbles out of Buck – a mockery of joy.

“Everything keeps happening, and it’s still the same fucking day. It’s always the same and every time it’s different and I can’t do anything.”

He looks at Chim, raw, broken.

“I can’t keep going on like this. I just need it to stop.”

Chim’s grip on him tighten to the point of hurting. Buck welcomes the pain, it grounds him, anchors him – it’s the proof that someone cares, someone is here with him, even for this round of a day.

“Buck,” Chim says, intense. “No matter what’s happening, you aren’t alone – ”

“But I am. That’s the thing. You, the team, you’re all here but I’m so fucking alone. I don’t know if anyone can help me at all.”

He knows Chim is confused, troubled, that he is not sure of what he should say or do. Only Buck knows, there is nothing he can do that will help him.

He is alone.

“Buck,” Chim breathes out, helpless. A single tear runs down his cheek.

“It’s okay, Chim.” It’s not his fault. “Thanks for listening anyway.”

“Wait, Buck.”

But Buck is already gone.

There is no smiley face on his toast this time.

* * *

Flanked by both Eddie and Chim, Buck almost feels claustrophobic.

He is used to Eddie barely leaving his side anymore, he has done it in every loop thus far. As soon as Buck comes out the locker room, shoulders lower and lower each time, Eddie finds his side and never leaves it.

Chim has decided to join him, as it seems.

Neither Bobby nor Hen mention it, having noticed Buck’s withdrawn behavior.

How many times has he gone through this very same day? He can’t quite remember anymore – has it been weeks of it? Months? An eternity?

Does it even matter?

They are at the Santa Monica building fire. Every single time that Buck makes it through to there, he feels his insides churn and turn in fear – even that very first time, on that very first day, when they had come for Apartment 24, he had been terrified of it.

Had he known, somehow, that he would meet his end there?

“I’ll go with Buck,” Chim says before Bobby can give the order.

Eddie frowns at the suggestion but remains silent, and so Buck and Chim find themselves walking down the burning corridors side by side. They find the blonde woman like they do every time, she is unconscious but alive, as she always is.

They won’t find anyone else, but Chim won’t accept that without checking their perimeter first.

“So,” Chim starts as they start their trek back.

“No,” Buck protests. “This really isn’t the time, Chim.”

“I’m worried about you.”

They pass Apartment 24, Buck does not glance at the door. Except that he does. In fact, he stills in front of it.

“Buck, what are you doing? We have to evacuate.”

He has never been back inside the apartment since he was shot and died on its floor. Maybe the answer lies in there. Of course! How could he have been so stupid?

“Here,” Buck says, turning around and handing the unconscious woman to Chim, careful not to hurt her. “I think I heard someone in there. Take her and go, I’ll check.”

“No fucking way, Buck. I’m staying with you.”

“Get her out, I’ll be fine.”

He will always have the next loop if it comes to it, he doesn’t say.

Apartment 24 is engulfed by flames, the worst kind of hellfire. Nothing in it could be salvaged but he has made up his mind, influenced by his despair and misery. What’s another risk to take? He hasn’t even died since that first time.

Maybe that will put things back into order, him dying in Apartment 24, as it was meant to be.

He takes one step inside.

“Buck, we have to go, what are you doing?”

“Han, Buckley,” Bobby’s voice comes in on their radio. “You have to get out of there, right now.”

“Get out, Chim, I’ll be right behind you.”

“Evan Buckley, if you think I’m leaving here without you, I – ”

Chim does not finish his sentence.

The floor gives in from under him and both him and the woman disappear from Buck’s view before he can do anything about it.

The world, again, goes black.

* * *

* * *

Buck opens his eyes.

“Everything okay there, Buckaroo? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He doesn’t answer Hen’s question.

She dies, gunshot to the heart in Apartment 24.

It’s his fault, he forgot to call in the anonymous tip.

* * *

* * *

Buck opens his eyes.

* * *

* * *

Bobby dies again.

* * *

* * *

So does Chim.

* * *

* * *

So do Eddie, and Hen.

* * *

* * *

The loop goes on, and on, and on.

* * *

* * *

Buck opens his eyes and he cries.

He does not move, his head is bowed and he cries.

He is so tired. When was the last time he slept? He can’t remember. It must have been weeks ago by now.

God, he just wants it all to stop, he can’t watch anyone he loves die anymore. Every time hurts as much as if it was the first.

“Get moving, Buck, or there won’t be any food left.”

Buck does not turn. He knows Chimney is already gone.

Not even sparing a glance at the clean shirt in his hands, he leaves the room, throwing it away, not caring where it falls.

Nothing matters anymore.

The sight of his team laughing together used to make his heart soar with happiness. Now he feels nothing but emptiness inside of him.

Is this going to be like this forever? Is he ever going to leave that loop?

Is he ever going to see Christopher again? Maddie? Is he ever going to leave Los Angeles again? Will his hell be nothing but sun and blood and always the same?

Maybe he did die that very first time. Maybe this is truly hell.

Maybe this is his punishment.

“You didn’t change, Buck,” Hen laughs but her smile vanishes as she takes in the wrecked sight he makes. “Are you alright?”

“I can’t – ” Buck starts. His voice breaks.

His gaze falls down to the table. He sees his plate – avocado toast and red pepper flakes put into a smiley face – and he sees the knife sitting next to it.

“Buck?”

This all started after he died. Maybe it will all stop if he dies again – for good. Maybe this has been nothing but a glitch. Maybe he can fix this.

“Buckaroo?”

He won’t watch any of them die again. Not this time, not ever.

“What’s wrong, Buck?”

Before any of them can react, Buck reaches for the knife and buries it deep into his neck, right where he knows the jugular to be, and he can feel it in his throat, a cold and alien sensation.

The pain that he feels almost doesn’t belong to him, he is just a ghost of who he used to be.

Nothing matters anymore, not even his life.

The world stills as the team watch in horror.

Buck yanks the knife out.

Blood gushes out of him, bubbles up and down his throat, and the last thing he sees before he dies is the horrified looks of his family as they try to save him.

* * *

* * *

Buck opens his eyes and he yells his lungs out.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong? Buck!”

But he can’t – can’t answer, can’t stay here, can’t focus. He just can’t.

He rushes out of the station, the screams of his team calling after him, but he tunes them out.

He doesn’t realize he is in the middle of the street until it’s too late.

The car hits him full force.

* * *

* * *

Buck opens his eyes.

He closes them again right away.

This time, Hen dies.

* * *

* * *

Buck opens his eyes and he lets himself drop to the floor.

Maybe he needs to do the original version of the day again, let the events unfold as they first did, as they were meant to.

When he died again, it was not how he first did.

He gets himself up before Chim passes by the locker room.

“Get moving, Buck, or there won’t be any food left.”

It’s hard, pretending that nothing is amiss. He tries to make the same jokes he made, so long ago, on that same day. He was a different person back then, he feels like he has aged decades since then.

He lets the day unfold – Stocker, Athena bringing donuts, the cat in the tree, the bakery fire and the all rest of their calls. And the armed man.

The gunshot hurts more than he remembers.

He’s dying, and, silently, he shouts at universe to please, please, let this day be over.

* * *

* * *

Buck opens his eyes.

“I can’t do this anymore. Please, I can’t.”

* * *

* * *

Buck opens his eyes.

He goes through the motions, exhaustion set in his bones like an ache he has carried his whole life. He remembers to change out of his shirt before he goes upstairs to join his team, and he even smiles at Chim’s prank on his toast.

At least, of all days to be living, he is spending it with some of the most important people in his life.

* * *

Buck can’t believe it.

The whole team has survived the car pile-up and the Santa Monica fire. This is the first time in all of his countless loops that they have made it this far. They are even back at the station, something that has never happened

Three hours until midnight, but so much can happen in those three hours.

He can’t let his guard down.

“Come on,” Eddie says all of the sudden, taking Buck’s hand and pulling him away.

They have just finished drying the dishes, the ordinary task a comfort to Buck after all the crazy days that he has had.

“What, where?”

“We’re going to sleep. I don’t know what’s the matter with you today, but you’re barely standing. You look half-dead.”

Ah, the irony! If only Eddie knew how close his words hit to the truth. Buck knows more about death that he has ever cared to.

He lets himself be dragged to the bunker room. It’s silent and dark, as it always is. He can see Hen sleeping in one of the beds, her glasses discarded on the nightstand.

The promise of sleep sounds so appealing when he feels like he hasn’t rested in weeks, but –

“Eddie, I don’t know if I can,” he whispers.

“That’s why I’m here.”

Eddie takes off his boots, and settles on the bed, gesturing at Buck to join him.

“What?”

“Get in there, Buck,” Eddie says softly. “We’ll share.”

Maybe, in other circumstances, Buck would have tried to argue, even if just for the sake of it. Here, now, the thought of protesting does not even register as an option.

Boots off, he falls onto the bed and into Eddie’s arms with abandon.

It takes no effort at all to find a position that’s comfortable, almost like they have been doing it forever. Almost like they fit, inherently.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you today,” Eddie repeats, a murmur. Buck feels the rumble of his voice against his chest. “But I’m here.”

Buck doesn’t answer.

Instead, he buries himself deeper into Eddie’s hold, and he falls asleep like that, exhausted, with Eddie’s smell all around him, and Eddie’s hand playing in his hair.

* * *

He wakes up an hour later to the sound of the alarm blaring.

Alright. He has to keep everyone safe for two more hours, and then, hopefully, his hell will be over.

“You look rested,” Eddie tells him.

The truck is flying through the streets of Los Angeles, and though the air is still suffocating, the weight of Buck’s burden still as colossal as it ever was, he does feel invigorated. Be it the nap, the way Eddie wrapped himself around him, or the foolish hope in his chest, he does not know – it’s not important, in truth.

“I feel better,” Buck says, a sincere smile warming itself on his lips for the first time in forever. “Thank you, man. You didn’t have to.”

“I know.”

Their call is yet another fire, Buck could almost laugh at it. Sometimes he wonders if he isn’t truly in hell, that would explain the constant flames and suffering.

“Everyone careful,” Bobby calls loudly. “There might be explosives in there.”

Fuck.

The universe really isn’t making it easy on him, but Buck won’t give up. He can’t give up.

Athena is here – another person to keep an eye on. Buck swallows hard, he needs to keep focused. He can’t let his anxiety get in the way, the scene is already way too chaotic as it is.

The fire has broken in the chemistry building of the Los Angeles City College, and the faculty hasn’t answered any calls to give them a list of potential dangerous products stored in the building.

So close to midnight, it’s not surprising, but it’s not helpful.

They get to work in the same organized chaos they are used to. The novelty keeps him on his toes, he does not know what is going to happen, how the call will go. He has to keep his eyes on everyone and everything.

Buck could never win, he should have known better by now.

The building explodes.

The blast sends everyone crashing to the ground, but Buck is too far from his team and they were too close to the explosion.

He must have hit his head going down – his ears are ringing, blood is falling in his eyes – he does not care. The only thing he sees is them.

“NO!”

Buck runs towards the fallen bodies of his friends. None of them are moving.

The world isn’t turning black.

“No, no, no.”

No, this cannot be it. This cannot be the end.

He scrambles at Bobby’s sides, his eyes are open and unseeing, his mouth twisted in a frozen scream.

He is dead.

“No, no. Please.”

Buck draws himself up, abandoning his captain’s lifeless corpse to run to Athena. There is a hole in her chest where her heart ought to be, there is no breath left in her.

She is dead.

“No, oh God.”

Chim’s skull his crushed beyond recognition, his hand still stretched towards his radio.

He is dead.

“No, no, no.”

Hen’s spine has snapped right in half, her blood is everywhere.

She is dead.

“Don’t, please, don’t.”

Eddie has his eyes closed, his skin is wan and already cold to the touch. It shouldn’t be possible, but the whole of him is freezing like as if he had been dead for days.

“No.”

Buck falls to his knees, dragging Eddie’s body up to hold him. He lets out a terrible cry of grief, rocking himself in agony, his sorrow too monstrous to hold.

The world isn’t going black.

“Please,” Buck yells at the sky, at anything or anyone that would hear him. “Please, I’ll do anything. I don’t care about my life, take it, but bring them back. Give me another chance. Please, I’m begging you. _Please._ ”

His sobs are wrecking him, strong enough to shatter his bones.

He can’t do this without them. This isn’t fair.

None of this is fair.

He only needs another chance.

The world goes black.

* * *

* * *

Buck opens his eyes. He is back into the locker room.

He is hollow, carved open by his endless suffering. There is nothing left of him, nothing but his throbbing pain, his wretched despair.

“Get moving, Buck, or there won’t be any food left.”

As a kid, Maddie had taken him to a carnival one time when he must have been four or five. He remembers this automaton of a man drinking like it was yesterday, the machine stuck forever in the same repeating movement, just as he is.

He changes out of his shirt, his limbs heavy, his movements slowed.

“Everything okay there, Buckaroo? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He could lie. He could do what he has always done, dodge the question and avoid their worried stares.

But he has just lost all of them and thought it was final.

“I’m not okay.”

“Buckaroo? What’s wrong?”

He turns to look right at Bobby, hanging onto his gaze like it’s the last thing keeping him sane, and maybe it is. Bobby, his team, Buck is only holding onto the last thread of his sanity because of them. They are the only reason he does not keep throwing himself under a car and hoping this time, it’ll stick.

At his core, Buck has always known himself to be selfish.

He has always wanted more – more from everyone. He needs the team to love him as he loves them, he longs for Eddie to return his feelings, he craves and he yearns, because it’s never enough.

This is no exception. He wants more, more days, more memories than this never-ending loop.

But Buck is so tired, just exhausted. He can’t do this any longer.

Bobby’s gaze is boring into him, and Buck breaks.

“Help,” he croaks out – an echo of the past.

Something cracks in Bobby’s eyes and suddenly, Buck is being held by his captain. He would cry but he is drained of energy.

“What’s wrong?” Bobby whispers, barely letting go of him.

The whole team is here, encircling them, creating a barrier between them and the rest of the world, from the curious stares they are getting. Buck feels safe in a way he has not in too long a time.

“You won’t believe me,” he says. “You never do.”

It’s not fair, Bobby does take time, but he has believed him the few times Buck has told him of his curse. He has told Hen too – every time she thinks he is joking but believes him right after he proves it. Chim takes longer than her, but never as long as Bobby.

He has never tried telling Eddie, only because Buck could not bear it if he thought him insane.

“Try me,” Bobby says.

What has he got to lose anyway? The universe keeps taking them away from him anyway, he might as well push them away with his lunacy. Oh, would it not be so funny if none of this was real? If all of it was in his mind?

“I’m stuck in a time loop,” he confesses, staring at them, held up high, almost daring them to laugh at him.

They don’t laugh. He does, dark and bitter, at the incredulity and fear they can’t hide.

“I keep reliving the same day over and over again, I’ve been stuck in this same day for weeks now, maybe months. I can’t even say anymore. And I’m so tired, I’m just so tired of losing you over and over and over again. I can’t do it anymore. I won’t.”

They don’t believe him.

It’s fine.

“Our first call will be Jason Stocker, 64,” he continues despite the crumbling despair they show. “His granddaughter Lila calls 911 but he refuses to be treated. He has a heart attack right before we leave.”

“Evan,” Eddie says – it’s the first time ever that Eddie has used his first name.

“5,” Buck cuts, low.

“I think you – ”

“4.”

“ – are tired and not – ”

“3.”

“ – really making sense – ”

“2.”

“ – right now, but we’re – ”

“1.”

The alarm rings.

“I’ll prove it to you,” Buck says.

He flips around, not waiting for his team.

It’s a testament to how much he has shaken them that they don’t protest to his being on the call.

He ignores the looks, he ignores the whispers.

Eddie sits as close to him as he ever does. Buck pretends he does not have to bite his lips to stop the tears of relief from falling.

They blaze through the streets of Los Angeles – intense and silent – and, right before he speaks, Buck’s eyes meet Bobby’s, wide with shock.

“We’ve got a man, 64, complaining of chest pains,” his captain says slowly. “The granddaughter called 911. His name is Jason Stocker.”

There are gasps of shock.

Buck’s triumph is short-lived. How could he ever celebrate being right about this? It would only be so easy if he had truly lost his mind.

“He’s over here,” Lila cries out as soon as they arrive.

Stocker, as charming as ever, groans when he sees them arrive. Chim and Hen try to get to him but they get brushed off before they can get too close.

Buck’s hand shots to grasp Eddie’s arm and he turns his head just enough that only Eddie can hear him when he speaks.

“I’m fine,” Buck whispers in perfect synchronization with Stocker’s rant. “Lila is overreacting as always. I don’t need and I don’t want your help. Thank you, now get the hell out of my property.”

Eddie’s eyes are wide and fixed on him, his mouth agape.

“Grandpa,” Lila protests.

“Sir,” Bobby says and Buck mouths along. “Making sure you’re alright would only take a minute, and I’m sure your granddaughter would be grateful for it.”

“My granddaughter should have never called you in the first place. Lila, I told you I was alright.”

Buck never stops talking along, he does not get any words wrong. He has lived through every scenario of this scene to know it by heart.

“Cap’,” he calls, ready for his part to play. “We should check on Lila, she looks shaken.”

Slower than he has ever seen him act, Bobby nods his agreement.

“That’s not necessary,” Stocker objects but his voice is already getting weaker.

“It is,” Lila refutes. “I’m not feeling so good. I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“Eddie,” Buck says. “Go by his side, Stocker is about to fall over. I’ll take care of Lila.”

Without protest, Eddie does as he is told but not before one last frightened glance.

After that, the call goes as he always does. Lila cries when her grandfather collapses, but this time it’s Buck who is allowed to comfort her. He feels for the kid, she reminds him of himself at her age, not listened to, alone and scared.

Ever since the loop began, he has had to focus on Stocker and he is glad for the change of pace.

Lila’s mother arrives right before they leave. Buck’s heart aches like it was the first time at the sight the kid makes, alone, abandoned, standing in front of that empty house.

* * *

No one talks until they are back at the station.

They never do.

“My office.”

Buck follows him. He is not surprised to find that the whole team does too.

They are all staring at him and, even though he has told them in previous loops, he has never told them all at once. It’s overwhelming enough to throw him off his rhythm, making his skin itch with discomfort.

“Athena is about to send you a text, Cap’,” he says, anything to gain back some control. “She’s on her way with donuts. She’s won a bet at the precinct. Banes and Dreyer have in fact been dating for two months.”

Bobby’s phone pings with a text. His face blanches.

“Cap’?” Hen asks, worried.

“He’s right.”

There is a beat of silence as they digest the news. Buck lets himself fall on one of the chairs, Athena must be on her way up by now. She will be wondering why the hell the team is hiding away in Bobby’s office.

He wonders what her reaction will be. He has wanted to tell her but he never has, mainly because he can’t prove it to her as easily as he can the team.

Chim is the first to talk.

“How? How is it even possible?” he asks, dumbfounded. “This has to be a prank, it’s not possible. You can’t be stuck in a freaking time loop.”

Buck snorts, “I wish.”

“But how?”

“Hell if I know,” Buck replies with a shrug. “The universe hates me, I guess.”

That’s the moment Athena chooses to join them. She isn’t holding the box of donuts, though there is some power on her shirt, proof that she has eaten at least one. Bobby is always the one to point it out to her, and they share a loving smile when he brushes it off for her.

“Alright. What’s wrong?”

“Hello Athena. How has your day been? Mine has been a hell and half.”

She frowns at him before turning her gaze to her husband.

“Buck is, huh – well, he is – ”

“I’m stuck in a time loop.”

She startles and then, “Is this a joke?”

“Again – I wish. But no. You know what? I’ll leave you all for a moment to discuss how batshit crazy I am, I have an anonymous tip to leave so that I don’t get shot by a maniac later on today.”

Stunned, no one tries to stop him.

He is barely holding himself together as he calls in the tip. His body threatens to crumble in on itself as he walks back into his captain’s office – his muscles are tensed to their limits to stop himself from shaking too hard.

They all cease their agitated conversation as soon as they catch sight of him.

“So,” Buck says, dragging the sound out. “If we’re doing this, we only have seven minutes and,” he checks his phone, “about forty seconds, before we have to get going.”

“Okay,” Athena starts. “Let’s say this is true. Why do you keep reliving the same day?”

“I don’t know, but in the first version of the day, the original day, I died.”

The tension grows, shoulders stiffen, faces contort in distress, jaws clench.

“You got shot?” Hen guesses.

“Yeah. But that won’t happen now, I stopped it. Honestly, that’s the least of my worries. Every time I go through this day, and someone dies. I don’t care if it’s me, but it’s mostly one of you.”

His voice cracks. His leg is bouncing hard, and he can’t do anything to stop it. Images of his team – dead, bodies horribly mangled – surge to his mind, making his breath hitch in his throat and tears spill from his eyes.

It’s Bobby who takes the first step towards him, Bobby who clutches his arms, Bobby who catches his gaze and holds it.

“Buckaroo,” he says like it means everything.

“You all died, Bobby,” Buck sobs out. “I couldn’t save you.”

“Oh, Buck.”

Distantly, Buck notices that Bobby is crying too, tears of compassion or pity, Buck couldn’t say and couldn’t care either.

He forces his eyes away, glancing at his phone. Time is running out – time is always running out.

“We got five minutes left,” Buck says, voice weak.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says and when Buck looks up at him, he sees that Eddie is frozen and pale. “What do we do?”

“How many times have you lived through the loop?” Athena demands.

“I lost count.”

He can’t believe they all accept what he is saying, and so fast too. Did Eddie manage to convince him? There was no way Buck could have known about Stocker and exactly what he was going to say.

Or are they all humoring him?

“And every time someone dies?” she continues.

He nods, tired, “The first time it was me. Then someone on the team. I tried everything, I tried not changing a thing from the original day, I tried killing myself. Nothing worked. Every time everything goes black whether I die or not, and then I’m back in the locker room.”

“You tried killing yourself?” Eddie repeats, hollow, eyes wide.

“You have to understand,” Buck says, ashamed and weary. “It’s been months of this, man. I can’t – I can’t, okay, it’s too painful.”

Chim draws Buck into an almost painful hug, tearing him away from Bobby whose face has crumbled, cheeks wet with tears.

The alarm rings.

“Maybe you should stay here,” Hen starts, uncertain.

“No,” Buck protests, wiping his eyes. “I have to be there. You’ll die, but I know what’s gonna happen.”

Bobby takes a shuddering breath but he nods.

“You keep me in touch,” Athena orders, but her usual authority is laced with concern. “And – be careful.”

* * *

Going through their calls with his team’s backup and total trust on his curse, is freeing.

The next hours of their shift go the same way they always do, from the cat in the tree to the bakery fire, nothing changes – except, this time, Eddie will turn around, ask if there is someone left in the bakery (there isn’t), or Hen will ask if the stroke victim will survive (she does, until the hospital at least).

Buck is overwhelmed by his love for these people who could have sent him away when he first opened his mouth about time loops and the universe hating him, but they chose to stay by his side and believe him.

“There’s going to be a speeding car in twenty-four minutes,” he tells his team when they arrive on the scene of the car accident. “I’ll give you a sign two minutes before it gets there, and everyone gets far from that side of the highway, you hear me?”

No one gets hit by the car.

* * *

The Santa Monica building is on fire, the flames already high through the windows by the time they get on scene.

Buck briefs them on the way over.

He knows where the three people still in the building are, and how long the building will stand before it starts tumbling down on itself.

They get everyone out in record time.

The whole team survives.

* * *

“What do we have left?”

They are back at the station, something that has happened only once before.

Buck keeps his eyes closed. They have three hours left into the day, and in one hour, they will get their next call.

Their last call.

“Fire at the Los Angeles City College,” he rasps. “Chemistry building. It blows up and kills you all.”

Silence falls around them like an avalanche, terrible and unstoppable.

“Could we prevent it?” Hen asks. “You did call an anonymous tip for the guy who shot you. If we know when we get called in, we can have an estimate and call 911 earlier. We’ll get it before it gets out of hands.”

“I don’t now,” Buck says. “At least I know what happens. If we get another call, I don’t know anything. So many things could happen.”

“Like on any other call,” Eddie says.

“But it’s not like any other day.” Buck feels his heart in his throat. “Every single time, someone has died. I have watched all of you die, many many times. There’s no telling it’s gonna be different now.”

“You can’t lose hope – ”

“Too late for that, Cap’. I lost hope around the fourth time I had to watch you bleed out to death.”

He can’t stand the looks of pity the team is giving him. They have a little over half an hour left before the alarm rings and he needs to think the call through, to recall every little detail he can so that he can save them.

“I’m gonna get some fresh air.”

No one tries to stop him.

He goes up to the roof – it’s dark outside, as dark as it can be in Los Angeles at least. He can’t see the stars, that’s something he misses from Pennsylvania. They had lived far from any city lights and he had grown up spending all his summer nights in the backyard, looking up at the stars and dreaming of adventures.

“Can I?”

He startles at the voice but smiles, though small.

“Sure.”

Hen comes to sit next to him. She nudges his shoulder with hers and stays there, pressed against him. The smell of her hair hits him, it’s comforting, a smell he knows well from having stolen her bottle of shampoo many times when he’d forgotten to bring his at the station.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she says.

“You do?”

“Yes.” She gives him a loving, compassionate look. “You think it’s your fault. You think you’re being punished for something. But it’s not. It’s not your fault, and there’s nothing you need to be punished for.”

Oh.

She is right, of course – then again, she always is.

He remains silent.

“It’s not, Buck. You’re a good man. I don’t know why this is happening to you, if it’s the universe trying to teach you a lesson or if it’s a glitch in the matrix or something. But what I do know is that it’s _not_ your fault. Do you hear me?”

His lip wobbles.

How can he not think that this is his fault? How can he not blame himself for this?

“Buckaroo. I need you to hear me. You are a good man. This isn’t your fault.”

He nods once, sharp. Words refuse to leave his mouth, swallowed by the tears he refuses to let fall.

It’s tempting to believe her. All that he wants is to be worthy of his team, his family.

“I want you to promise me something,” she adds, before taking a deep breath. “If you go back, tell us again. Tell us as many times as you need to, but don’t go through this alone.”

“Hen – ”

“Promise me.”

“I – okay. Okay, I will. I swear.”

“Good.”

He takes the time to compose himself again. He will lose it later, he has no time for it now. They need a plan for the City College fire. Do they warn dispatch earlier? Would it risk another crew’s life?

Turning to her, he means to ask her what she thinks of it but freezes.

“Are you crying?” he asks, shocked.

She is – her eyes, always so bright and sparkling, are now glossy. She is trying to keep collected but she can’t hide the tears that have spilled down her face.

“It’s been a day, okay,” she protests with a laugh, wiping at her eyes.

“Tell me about it,” he replies.

She stills, unsure how to react, but he breaks into a grin and so does she.

A weight shifts on him, it’s not gone, far from it, but Hen is right. He needs his team and, no matter what happens in the next few hours, he can count on them for anything.

* * *

In the end, they decide against calling in another anonymous tip.

Athena goes to check the building, she catches a group of three students smoking in one of the classroom.

There is no fire.

* * *

They get three other calls instead.

* * *

The first one is a welfare check on a old woman.

She fell and broke her hip getting out the shower.

Chim almost trips on her slipper but Bobby, like all of them, is keeping a close eye on his teammates and catches him before he can fall.

Buck knows, with all the certainty of the universe, that Chim would have hit his head on the bathtub’s edge if not for their captain’s quick reflexes.

Buck knows Chim would have died.

* * *

The second one is man hit by bullet in one of L.A.’s most unsafe neighborhoods.

The whole team is on high alert, doubly so.

The man is dead on arrival. They bag him up as fast as they can without being disrespectful, leaving the scene behind to the detectives.

Eddie almost gets hit by a car getting back to the truck, but Hen is fast to yank him back before he gets thrown up in the air.

No one says anything, but they all understand.

The universe isn’t done with them yet.

* * *

The third and last call is a woman giving birth.

It’s thirty minutes to midnight, and the whole team is so tensed they can barely breathe.

The woman, Iskra, is a tourist from Croatia staying in a hotel in Hollywood. She has already started labor when they get to her room.

They are all waiting for the sky to collapse on them, for the ground to open itself beneath them, for the flames of hell to engulf them.

None of that happens.

Iskra gives birth to a healthy baby boy she names Leon, after her husband’s father.

None of the team dare as breathe too loud as they drive both mother and child to the hospital.

A truck zooms past the ambulance, running the red light without even as much as slowing down.

Hen brakes right in time.

There is no impact. There is no casualty.

* * *

It’s ten minutes to midnight when they get back to the station.

* * *

Athena is waiting for them when they get out their vehicles.

Silent, they drag themselves upstairs – to wait.

Wait for another call or for midnight, whichever comes first.

Will Buck’s world goes black as the clock hits midnight? Was this not enough?

Will he ever be free?

His family surrounds him, staring up at the clock which hand grows ever closer to the witching hour.

“We’re here, Buck,” Bobby tells him. “We got you.”

“Don’t forget your promise,” Hen adds.

Eddie, tender, only takes his hand, squeezing it in unspoken but unwavering support.

Two minutes to midnight.

“I love you, guys,” Buck hears himself say. “Thank you for being there for me today.”

“Any day,” Chim promises.

“We love you too, Buckaroo,” Athena says with all the kindness in the world.

He can’t tear his eyes off the clock.

11:59pm.

Less than a minute and he will be free from this nightmare.

Oh, what if the world goes black again once the clock hits midnight, and he has to do this all over again? What if they haven’t broken the loop? It would be too cruel, hasn’t he suffered enough?

His team is around him, holding their breath with him, but any second now he could open his eyes and be back in the station’s locker room, and he would be alone again, and he can’t, he can’t –

The world stops.

Midnight.

It’s midnight.

The world is still standing. He is still there.

It’s another day.

“Buck?” Bobby calls, gentle, but Buck can’t move.

“It’s over,” he breathes out, shocked into stillness.

He stares at the clock until it’s one minute past midnight, just to make sure, and then – then, he crumbles on himself without any kind of warning, sobs bursting out of him, painful and broken.

He is wailing, on his hands and knees, the only reason he has not fallen face first onto the floor is his team, his family catching him.

At long last his torture is over, he has made it out.

They are all here, alive and unhurt, and holding onto him as he breaks down, without shame, without restraint, because he knows that they are close and they have his back, and they _love_ him.

He cries and he cries, finally allowing himself the grief that he has been carrying for so long.

* * *

Bobby lets him go home, their shift isn’t over yet but Buck has been awake for months now.

Athena drives him to his place, but she insists to stay until Maddie gets there, citing a family emergency to get out of work. He appreciates it more than he could say, especially the way she says 'family' on the phone, looking straight at him as she does.

He feels guilty still, but one single raised eyebrow is enough to shut him up when he tries to apologize for it.

“Let us take care of you, boy. We want to.”

She fixes them some tea while he showers, offering him a mug with an easy nudge towards the couch. The warmth of the beverage soothes some of his shattering pain, and he sighs into it, letting the mist caress his cheeks like a lover would.

“How are you feeling?” Athena’s voice is kind, her eyes too.

“I didn’t think I’d ever come back here,” he admits. “I thought that it was always gonna be that same day, again and again – forever.”

“But you made it out, Buckaroo. You survived.”

“Did I?”

She frowns, “What do you mean?”

He puts the mug on the coffee table, then wipes his hands against his sweatpants.

“It’s just,” he fumbles with the words, trying to put the enormity of what he has lived through into something that makes sense. “I lost some piece of myself in there. Like a piece of me died.”

“You’re still whole, Buck. You’re still you, even if that’s a little different now.”

She puts her hand on his arm, giving it a gentle press.

“You have plans today?”

The sudden question makes him laugh, a little desperate. For a while, he thought he would never have the chance to live that new day, he almost forgot what he had planned for it – except he could never truly forget.

“Actually, yes,” he answers with a soft smile. “Eddie and I are taking Christopher to the movies. There’s a new superhero movie he’s been wanting to see.”

“I see.”

Her voice is heavy with unsaid words, teasing.

“You know,” he says, trying to be as casual as he can. “I promised myself that if I made it out, I’d do some things I’ve been too afraid to do.”

“Oh?”

“I’m gonna tell Eddie I’m in love with him.”

“Buckaroo,” she smiles widely and he can’t help but smile back. “Oh, I’m so proud of you.”

His heart flutters – anytime someone tells him they are proud of him, he is moved in such a way he could never voice.

“He might not feel the same way.”

“He does.”

She sounds so sure of herself, so unshakable in her belief, that he can only accept it with a grin. If she says so, he has never known Athena to be wrong.

They talk, not mentioning his never-ending day again, and Buck feels the hold it had on him ease. He knows it will take a long time to heal from it, if he even can.

But he has a family now.

It’s not just his sister and him anymore, trying to survive in their parents’ shadow.

They have an entire group of people who care about them and their well-being, people who would go through hell for them.

“Maddie is here,” Athena says after a look at her phone, some two hours after they arrived at Buck’s place. “I’ll be leaving you two.”

“Thank you,” he whispers, sincere.

“What’s family for?”

He goes to get up but she stops him. Instead, she bends down and presses a kiss to the top of his head, like a mother would.

“I’ll see you soon, Buck.”

* * *

He tells Maddie everything. He has never been able to hide much from his sister and, frankly, at the present, he feels no need to.

He wants to tell her.

So he does.

She is not hard to convince about the truth of his day. Chim must have told her about it already, and she probably talked to Athena too. But, most important, Maddie knows him, maybe better than he does himself at times.

She knows he would never lie about something like that.

She reads the pain in his eyes, there is no faking it.

Once he is done talking, the both of them sit in silence, close together like they used to when they were kids and their parents’ screaming was too much to bear. Buck is grateful for his sister in a way he could never articulate.

The two of them have been through so much together – the forgotten, unwanted Buckley siblings – but at least they had each other. Losing contact with her when she was under Doug’s sick hold was one of the worst thing to ever happen to him.

Yesterday, on the worst day of his life, he wanted to run to her, he wanted her to tell him that everything was going to be alright, but he is glad she was far from him, safe, because that meant that he never had to watch her die.

“How are you feeling, really?”

He shrugs. Honestly, he could not say, but, for her, he tries.

“I’m tired, I guess. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep though. I, God Mads, I’ve seen them all die, their blood was on my hands, and I had to do it all over again every time. I’m terrified that if I close my eyes, I’ll be going back there, I’ll be back in the loop. What if – what if I’m never free?”

“But you said it,” she protests, tears in her eyes, “this is another day. It’s not Friday anymore. You’ve made it out. I don’t know how it happened in the first place, but you made it out. You pulled through. You’re probably the only person who could have. You’re incredible.”

He snorts – he does not feel like he is incredible. No, he feels more of a mess than he ever did in his life. He feels broken and beaten beyond repairs.

“It’s going to be okay, Evan. You’re not alone anymore.”

It takes him the longest time, but he falls asleep at last, his sister’s voice soothing his aching heart.

After all, he has all the time in the world now.

* * *

Buck opens his eyes.

He yawns and stretches his neck, movements slow with the vestige of sleep. Eddie is pressed against him, warm and pliable under his touch.

It’s been weeks since that fateful Friday.

Since then, several things have changed while still remaining the same.

Athena was right. Eddie does love him back.

Getting into a relationship with his best friend is the easiest thing in the world. The only element that changes between them is the kissing and sharing a bed.

Chim laughs at him when Buck mentions it, saying Buck and Eddie have been dating for far longer than that. Chim is right, but he did the exact same thing with Maddie, so he can’t really talk.

He still has nightmares about opening his eyes and being back in front of his locker, shirt stained of coffee, forced to go through the loops all over again.

He dreams of his friends’ many deaths – how their blood felt on his hands, the sounds of their bodies hitting the ground, the way his voice had turned hoarse by his endless screaming.

Eddie helps. Christopher too.

The whole team helps.

They are his rock, his constant.

“What are you thinking about?” Eddie mumbles against his chest.

“I’m just happy.”

“Yeah?”

Looking down at his boyfriend wearing a dopey smile and nothing else, Buck can only feel pure, unaltered euphoria.

“Yeah.”

He has been through hell and he has made it out.

Now, he knows.

He can survive anything, as long as he has his family with him.

It’s all fine. The world is back into order.

He can breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's that.
> 
> I have spent so much time on this fic. It's the longest fic that I have ever written in English, I don't even know how I'm feeling about it anymore.
> 
> Please, if you read this to the end, leave a comment, even if it's to tell me to never pick up a pen again. I've spent so much energy on this, I need to know what you all think of it.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope that you will have liked this. I am now going to sleep for a week.
> 
> .
> 
> **WARNINGS**  
>  \- Buck tries to kill himself in one of the loops by stabbing himself in the neck. The loop starts over and he does not stay dead.  
> \- He has a panic attack, Maddie calms him down on the phone.


	2. Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a week since Buck has been through Groundhog Day.
> 
> He is struggling to cope, but he is not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please note that this takes place before the first chapter’s last scene. This is set after Buck has broken the loop but before he confesses his feelings to Eddie.**
> 
> Someone in the comment mentioned they would have liked to see Buck’s confession and him and Eddie getting together, so I wrote this.
> 
> And of course, I couldn’t help myself and added a couple of firefam scenes in there. Sue me.

Buck opens his eyes.

He is back in the station’s locker room, holding a clean shirt in his hands, the shirt he is wearing dripping with coffee.

“No, no, no, no, no.”

His heart is beating loudly in his chest. This can’t be. He cannot be back.

No. He has left the loop. He has been freed.

“Get moving, Buck, or there won’t be any food left.”

Buck turns. Chim is already gone.

“No! No! I can’t do this again! No!”

* * *

Buck does not wake up with a startled gasp.

Waking up from nightmares is rarely like it is in the movies. He should know.

He wakes up aching, body tensed, breathing erratic.

He is in his bed, in his own apartment, his heart beating so hard in his chest it’s drowning everything else.

It takes him the longest time to calm himself down. He won’t sleep again tonight, there is no point in staying in bed and so he throws his legs off the bed and goes to start his day, though it’s still dark outside.

Every night for the past week has been filled with nightmares.

A week ago today, Buck lived the same day again and again, so many times that he thought that he would never know another day again.

Every time he closes his eyes, he becomes terrified that he will open them and find himself back in the loop.

What if something happens to him or, worse, someone on the team, and he is thrown back again? What if he has only been allowed a respite?

Going back to work has helped, though spending too much time in the locker room never fails to send his heart racing, and he has not been able to stay in there alone yet, and might never again if he is being honest with himself.

They get new calls, calls he knows nothing about, has no idea how they will go, what will anyone say or do, who will make it or not. There are no more Stocker, no more Apartment 24.

His team’s support is unwavering. Without them, he wouldn’t be here anymore.

They will never understand the true extent of what he has gone through, and if he can, he will protect them for it. They do no need to know how low he sank, how desperate he became. They should never have the mental images of themselves, bleeding out, dying.

He hasn’t talked to anyone about what he has lived through ever since the loop broke. He can’t bring himself to. What would he even say?

Anytime someone as much as mentions his Groundhog Day, his team tenses and starts treating him like he is fragile and ready to break down at the slightest breeze.

He hates it. He hates that he has lived through that day. He hates that it’s affected him so deeply, so thoroughly.

Was it truly the only way that he could learn to reach out to his chosen family? Did he have to lose them again and again for that?

Why does he always have to suffer?

Is he always going to?

* * *

At work, Buck can focus, can push the memories of the loops asides.

The team works as well as they ever do but there is a stillness, an air of hesitation around them that’s suffocating.

He only wants to put it behind. It’s been a week already – how long will he have to wait to go back to normal? It’s unfair, he knows, to expect so much of himself after going through such trauma but he can’t help it.

There is a thought he tries to bury away but that keeps coming back – he is too broken now. They won’t be able to put up with him much longer. He is too much to keep around.

Every time the thought arises, unbidden, hated, it’s almost as if his team can sense it, as if they have developed a sixth sense for Buck’s daily moment of self-hatred. Someone always reaches out then – a text, a pat on the back, a joke.

They won’t let him sink into his own despair again.

They won’t let him be alone again.

Buck has been tensed all day, and the team keeps close to him and he wants to scream at them that he is alright but he also wants to break down again in their arms.

One week.

One week ago to this day he repeated the same Friday, again and again.

This Friday is nothing like the last Friday he has been through. It’s raining, for a start. Eddie does not spill coffee on Buck’s shirt, Chim does not sprinkle red pepper flakes onto his avocado toast.

In fact, there is not even an avocado toast. Bobby makes them omelets for breakfast and no one talks about the benefits of morning versus night showers.

Everything is different, but Buck’s anxiety remains the same.

He has lost count of how many times he was forced to relive the same day, how many times he had to watch his family die before his eyes, how many times his hopes of escaping the loop were crushed.

Buck still has no idea why his repeat day happened. He can't help but think, what if he has only been given a limited amount of time before going back into the loop?

What if he lets down his guard and he is back in hell?

But the day goes on and no one on his team dies. The day never restarts, the world does not go black and Buck never opens his eyes to find himself back at the station’s locker room.

* * *

It’s two hours until the end of their shift when Karen drops by, Denny in tow and Nia in her arms.

Hen is ecstatic, of course, but so is the whole team. It’s a reprieve, a moment of brightness in their dark day.

Buck himself feels his dread recede as Nia laughs loudly, her tiny hands grabbing at her Uncle Chim. Denny is taking his role as big brother very seriously, keeping close to his baby sister and talking about all the games they have been playing to anyone who will listen to him.

Too lost in his own thoughts and the joy of the moment, Buck does not notice Karen at his side until she clears her throat.

“Oh, hey,” he says, startled but he quick to smile at her. “How are you?”

He has always liked Karen, she is strong, independent and intelligent, and it’s clear that she loves Hen with all her heart.

“Tired,” she answers easily. “And how are you?”

The way she says it, stressing on the 'you', with her gaze fixed on him, he has no doubt – she knows.

“Hen told me what happened,” she says, reading his unease. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Buck, truly.”

He searches her eyes and finds nothing but warmth and compassion.

“You believe it?”

It sounds almost impossible, she was not there to see it, she had no proof. It’s such an insane thing to believe, Buck himself is not sure he could believe it if it hadn’t happened to him.

“Yes. Hen believes you and that’s enough for me.”

Several feet away, Nia shrieks in joy – loud and carefree.

“So, how are you?” Karen repeats.

If this isn’t a question Buck would like to know the answer to. How is he? In a way, he has never felt so free. He has stared down Death and walked away, protected by the people he loves the most in the world.

Yet, also, he feels paralyzed by fear – fear that everything is going to be taken from him once again, and that this team there won’t be anything he can do about it.

“I’m trying,” he replies. It’s as honest as he can be.

She gives him a gentle smile, and then she is dragging him down into a bone-crushing embrace.

“Thank you for saving her,” she whispers.

“I didn’t always,” he admits, ashamed. “There were so many times – ”

She breaks their hug though her hands remain on his arms, holding him. She stares right into his eyes, kind but firm.

“She is here now”, she says, sure of herself. “You are here now. That’s all that matters to me. And I know you never stopped trying. So thank you, Buck.”

He has to bite the inside of his cheeks to stop from bursting into tears. Instead, he manages a nod, trying to convey his gratitude through his gaze. She must get it because she squeezes his forearms, once, twice, before letting go.

Eddie finds him afterwards, curious and worried alike. Once again, Buck is overwhelmed by his love for his best friend. He never thought that he could know such a deep feeling, so strong and true.

Athena was sure of Eddie’s reciprocation, but Buck hasn’t been able to confess just yet. He is afraid, still.

“What did Karen talk to you about?” Eddie asks.

“She wanted to know how I was doing.”

“And how are you doing?”

Buck can’t help but snorting. Eddie is relentless, always hovering over Buck, making sure that he is alright.

“I’m not there yet, but I'll get better,” Buck says because he can never lie to Eddie.

It’s enough for Eddie who smiles, and if Buck’s heart skip a beat at the sight, no one has to know.

* * *

Buck has found himself himself inviting Bobby and Athena to his place for diner that night.

He is not sure how it happened – one moment Bobby is asking Buck if he has been practicing the mushroom risotto recipe he has taught him, the next Athena has joined the discussion and demanded that Buck makes them the dish.

That’s how he finds himself picking the needed groceries with Bobby before heading together to his place.

It’s domestic almost, and Buck wonders if it’s something Bobby used to do with his kids, if it’s something he still does with May and Harry. He wonders if that’s how parents are supposed to act with their kids.

Late into the evening, long after the risotto has been made and eaten, and the three of them have migrated to the couch with a cup of coffee, Athena’s smile falls, replaced by a look he can’t decipher.

“Buck,” she starts. “Bobby and I are worried about you.”

He frowns, glancing between her and his captain. Their gazes so intense he can barely hold them.

“Why?” he asks though he knows the answer. “I’m fine. I’m coping.”

“That day,” she says – _that day._ The day that shall not be named. He knows very well what day she means. “You said something.”

Silent, he waits. Her face is open, pained too, but there is determination in her eyes, like she is readying herself for some battle.

“You said you killed yourself.”

There it is.

He has been expecting it. No one brought it up after he first confessed to it, but that explains so much of their behaviors.

“I was desperate,” he admits, looking away. “But I’m not in that place anymore. You don’t have to worry.”

“We’re always going to worry about you,” Bobby says.

“You shouldn’t have to – ”

“Buck,” Athena cuts. “We love you. Worrying is part of the deal.”

His heart threatens to burst with joy, air stolen from his lungs. He is loved – after years searching to belong, he has found his place, and it’s with these people, this beautiful family.

They love him as he loves them.

They have seen him at his worst, after the bombing, after the embolism and the tsunami, and now after _this_ , and they are still here, rooted in their love for each other and for him.

Suddenly, it hits him.

He can’t stay afraid. Every day could be the last, no matter if he has lived through it before or not. It’s not a life to live afraid of what could happen, he has to go on. He has to trust in his family.

“I love you too,” Buck says because it’s as simple as that.

For so long, he has struggled to say these words but now saying them out loud feels like such a relief, a liberation.

There is someone else he needs to tell those words to.

* * *

Christopher has been put to bed hours ago but Buck and Eddie are still talking.

One week and one day ago, this simple moment had felt impossible, unachievable, but now it’s there. It’s theirs.

Eddie is beautiful, Buck has always been aware of that – too much maybe. But Eddie is more than that, he is smart and loyal, caring and funny, determined and heroic.

Eddie is everything.

That’s why Buck is so scared of confessing his love despite Athena’s rock-solid belief that Eddie shares his feelings. He can’t mess things up. He can’t lose Eddie, lose Christopher.

“You alright, Buck?”

Buck blinks. How long has he been lost in thoughts?

“Yeah, sorry,” he says with a contrite smile.

“Where did you go?” Eddie asks, gentle.

Every loop, Eddie had been by his side. No matter what happened, or what Buck said. Maybe this means something, maybe not. Either way Buck has to believe their friendship is strong enough to survive this.

He has lived in a world without Eddie, it was not a world worth living in.

“I saw you die, Eddie,” Buck says, not quite what he was meaning to say but perhaps what he needs to say. “I had to watch all of you die so many times and it hurt, I can’t even say how much it hurt.”

Eddie is silent and Buck knows that it’s only because he doesn’t know what to say.

“I thought I was losing my mind, watching all of you die. But watching _you_ die? I never knew pain like that. And every time, I was back and there you were, alive and by my side. Always by my side. I could have never survived without you.”

“Evan,” Eddie breathes out – he had called him by his first name once before.

On that day.

Buck breathes in. It’s time to take that the leap of faith.

“I’m in love with you, Eddie Diaz. Everything that you are, I love. And I love Christopher so much, it’s crazy. It’s alright if you don’t feel the same way. Anything that you will give me, I’ll take.”

Eddie laughs, breathless.

“Take it all then, because I am in love with you, Evan Buckley.”

“You are?”

It’s almost too good to be true. His heart’s desire is at his fingertips and he hesitates before reaching out and grabbing it. He needs to be sure.

“I am,” Eddie confirms, a bright smile shining upon his face. “I love you so much, Buck.”

Just like that, the last part of Buck that held onto his hell day evaporates. It’s not going to be that easy, there will be nightmares still, there will be good and bad days but Buck will never have to face them alone again.

For now, being in Eddie’s arms, Eddie’s lips pressed gently against his, it’s enough to calm Buck, quieting every doubt and every fear he has ever had.

* * *

Days continue to go by and Buck feels himself growing stronger.

He opens up to his family about what he has been through, tells them about all the ways he thought he was losing them. They never recoil, never pull away. They welcome him in, flaws and fears and tears, and hold him.

“You’re coming?” Eddie asks, the loveliest smile on his lips.

Eddie who is caring and loving and the best thing to ever happen to Buck.

“Yeah,” he replies, giving him a soft kiss. “Go on, I’ll be right behind you.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He stands, in the locker room, watching the love of his life leave the room, and he knows without a doubt that Eddie will make sure that there is a hot cup of coffee waiting for him at the breakfast table, and an empty chair next to him, just for Buck.

Buck knows, not because he has lived through it, but because he knows Eddie. It’s the kind of certitude that comes with being loved and loving just as much in return.

For the first time since the loop, he can breathe as easy as ever, alone in the room where he could have lost himself.

He is free.

It’s time to learn to leave the past behind. Having his family by his side is what he needs to go on.

Forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say that I was entirely overwhelmed by the amount of support I got for the first chapter. I could have never expected such kind words from all of you, and I'm very grateful.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this, and I hope you will have enjoyed this short chapter.
> 
> Tell me what you thought of it in the comments! That keeps me going 💕


End file.
